


Don't You Think It's Beautiful?

by mannana



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied Bethyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mannana/pseuds/mannana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>!!Major spoilers for S5 Mid-Season Finale!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Think It's Beautiful?

Daryl just stared. At her, at nothing, at the walls, at the floor. Stared at her still body, her still warm hands clenched tightly between his. He felt numb. Lost.

 

“Daryl, we’re ready,” Maggie’s voice called. She sounded miles away right next to his ear.

 

Daryl shook his head.

 

Nothing to say, he guessed. No words seemed to form anyway.

 

“Daryl, we can’t wait any longer.” She added when he made no effort to move.

 

“She’s still warm,” He whispered, to himself mainly. He didn’t care if Maggie heard, if Rick heard, if any of them heard anything he said ever again.

 

Beth was dead and nothing else mattered.

 

 

He had laid her near the altar, placed a few candles around her head, to illuminate her face. To remember their last night together. Stupid probably, he didn’t care.

 

_“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”_

Nothing was beautiful. Not anymore.

 

“Daryl,” Rick’s voice called. How long had it been since Maggie left? It could have been hours.

 

But she was still warm.

 

Maybe he was keeping her warm? Maybe it was an illusion, an evil trick his mind was playing.

 

“No,” Daryl spoke low. “Not yet,” He begged.

 

“Been hours, Daryl,” Rick said and began to walk away.

 

“Can’t bury her, Rick,” Daryl finally said it. “Seen Walkers dig. Ain’t burying her.” He shook his head, never looking away from her face. The closed eyes. Why hadn’t they sunk yet? How long did that take?

 

“She’s still warm,” He repeated and felt another sting at the corner of his eyes. “She’s still warm…”

 

“Can’t leave her here,” Rick said quietly, sincerely, moving carefully on his feet.

 

“Casket in the other room, leave her up here. Seal the place tight.” He squeezed her hand twice before he let go. He let go for just a minute, didn’t want her warmth to escape, to turn to Rick. Eyes pleading to his friend, his brother.

 

Rick nodded.

 

Daryl turned back to Beth, her blonde locks glowing from the candle light made her look like an angel.

 

_“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”_

 

 

“Yeah,” He whispered and hung his head.

 

 

The noise coming from behind him minutes later didn’t startle him. He barely registered it. Maggie was crying, Rick was shushing Judith, and Glen kept asking Daryl for help.

 

He couldn’t move.

 

“Daryl, we gotta get this up there. You’re going to have to move her.”

 

“She ain’t a fucking piece of furniture.” He growled.

 

He didn’t mean to. He knew what they were asking. But he couldn’t control it. Hell he barely knew he’d even spoke out loud.

 

He pulled her into his arms again, blood seeping over his skin as he did. It felt so warm. Sticky.

 

His knees buckled.

 

He was still weak from carrying her. His muscles ached and his arms still burned. But he wouldn’t let Rick help. He wouldn’t let Tyreese help.

 

Not with that.

 

How long ago was it? A day? An hour?

 

It felt like a lifetime.

 

Daryl placed her gently into the casket, leaving the lid open so he could still see.

 

He memorized the pale look to her skin, the fading pink of her lips, the shape of her eyebrows, the way her hair tucked neatly under her shoulder.

 

He pretended she was sleeping. Like in the woods when it was just them. Alone.

 

He was alone now.

 

Maggie came to his side, placing a hand over his. She felt cold. Much colder than Beth did. Clammy and cold.

 

“Did she know?” She whispered, her eyes staring to the side of his head.

 

He shrugged. What was she asking?

 

Everyone stepped up next to him, one by one, mumbling their goodbyes. He didn’t hear any of it. Couldn’t hear any of it. Just heard the strains of her last song playing in his head…

 

 

_“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”_

 

 

The room was silent then. Everyone must have left.

 

He reached out to grab her hand again, afraid of the cold he’d find. Surely she’d be stiff by now.

 

How the hell long had it been?!?

 

Her eyes weren’t sinking. Why weren’t her eyes sinking?

 

“Nothin’s beautiful, Beth. Nothin’s as beautiful as you.” He choked.

 

There was sand in his eyes. They hurt and watered, stung and blurred. He coughed and cried. Gasped and sniffled.

 

“Nothin’” He repeated and slammed the casket lid closed.


End file.
